


heaving through corrupted lungs

by dontthinkiwont



Series: Ollie Sibick (OC - imnastyleavemealone) [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Brotherly Angst, Character Study, Dean Winchester Angst, Episode: s01e11 Scarecrow, Fix-It of Sorts, Original Character(s), Sam Winchester Angst, Self-Indulgent, Team as Family, as happy as it can get in spn, i guess, im sorry i hate it too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-10-23 03:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17675858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontthinkiwont/pseuds/dontthinkiwont
Summary: Ever wondered what would happen if Sam and Dean's fight in Season 1 Episode 11 was just a little bit worse and an anxious twink that they adopted while on the road was watching in horror and somehow became the subject of the fight?Me neither.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i'm rewatching supernatural for the bajillionth time and as always this argument sent a spear through my heart but also ignited the urge to write. so watch in disgust as i tinker with the boys' emotions and express some things i myself was thinking while watching this episode for the trillionth time. enjoy (or don't, i don't care.)

"I don't understand the blind faith you have in him."

"It's called being a good son!"

Sam sent Dean a withering glare that he had trouble interpreting and threw open the passenger door, stepping out and stomping loudly to the trunk of the car. Ollie scrambled to open the back door while Dean quickly followed, both of them following Sam to where he was throwing shit into a duffel bag. Dean picked up the fight right where it left off as Ollie pulled on the sleeves of his jean jacket on the sidelines.

"So you're gonna leave, huh? You're gonna leave when there are people that could die - when your own _father_ told you to stay away?"

"Jesus, Dean, it's a _week!"_ Sam yelled, voice rising in pitch. "A week to stop feeling awful about Jess, to - to find Dad, to kill the thing that -"

"If you would stop to think in your god damn life -"

_"It's all I can think about!"_

"...Sam, you're scaring me," Ollie spoke up in a quivering voice. It broke Dean's heart just a little bit.

A quick look flashed over Sam's face, but it quickly reverted back to the angry expression that left a bitter crease in between his eyebrows before anyone could make anything of it. Ollie pulled at his sleeves a little harder.

"Everything scares you, Ollie, and if you would actually cut the bullshit and grow a pair -"

"Never you, dude!" he snapped. "It's never fucking been you, so if you would just get back in the goddamn car so we could talk about this like sane individuals -"

"If he wants to go that bad then we should let him," Dean said, heart sinking as he did so. 

Ollie turned his wide eyes to his, and Dean met them while keeping his poker face strictly in place. Ollie's left hand had begun to twitch uncontrollably, and Dean fought off the urge to grab it and still the movement. His heart began to beat faster.

"W-we?" Sam asked breathlessly, looking at the youngest of the three with hurt written all over his face.

"I'm sorry, are you under the impression that I'm letting him anywhere near whatever the hell you're so adamant about walking into? Nuh-uh, if you wanna get yourself killed that's fine by me -" It wasn't. "- but you're leaving the fifteen year old out of it."

"I'm sixteen in a week -"

"Shut up, Ollie," Sam said. "Who the hell says you're gonna keep him safe on this fucking hunt?" 

He stressed the f on the word fucking, cleverly concealing a stutter. Dean noticed this with a feeling of smugness, which was immediately followed by guilt. Tonight was a fucking mess, and they were't anywhere near the end - hell, Sam wasn't even finished talking.

"Seeing as how I always seem to collect collateral damage, I don't think you can protect him any better than I could."

Dean rocked back on his heels, sucking on his teeth. Ollie had begun to tear up, something he could relate to even if he would never show it. 

"Screw you," he bit back. His sharp tone just barely concealed the wobble of his voice, and cleared his throat before continuing. "You're going to get him killed, Sam. Don't drag him into your stupid fucking revenge agenda."

"You think hunting's any better for him? Constantly being dragged around on these pointless 'missions,' being taught to follow orders, put in danger every damn day -"

"We are  _saving people,_ Sam! It's not pointless - wait, were you referencing your own childhood right there, 'cuz I'll tell you right now I've about had it up to here with you complaining."

"Complaining?! This isn't about me, Dean, this is about Ollie and how you're -"

"You know what, I'm trying my best, dammit! This is the second kid I've been forced to raise and neither of you came with a handbook, ok?! And taking him to, what, California? Definitely not good for him!"

"It could all be over, Dean! Don't you get it?!"

"It will  _never_ be over!"

"Fucking shut up!" Ollie screamed - well, it was somewhere between a scream and a perverted voice crack, Dean thought with a hint of humor. "I never - I'm terrified of everything that moves, the only reason I hunt is because my two favorite people do it and now you're gonna fight and then split up! How the hell is fighting all night helping me or any of us?!"

"You know what, no, we're not gonna fight about it all night," Sam said, suddenly dangerously calm. "Because I'm leaving."

Sam zipped up his duffel and swung it over his shoulder, sending an angry look in Ollie and Dean's general direction. 

"Come on, Ollie."

Dean saw Ollie freeze, and the rest of his body began to shake along with his left hand. Shit.

"Sam, don't," he warned. Against what, he wasn't sure.

"Oliver."

"This isn't fair," Ollie stuttered, now chewing on his left thumbnail. 

"Ollie, stay with me, that's an order," Dean intervened, even as it broke his heart. God, he sounded like Dad. 

A tear slipped down the sixteen year old's cheek as he shuffled backwards - towards Dean and the Impala. They both caught sight of Sam's stricken expression at the same time, and Ollie broke down crying as Dean looked away into the forest they were pulled over next to. Don't look, don't cry, don't say anything.

"Fine," Sam ground out, shifting the strap of his bag higher onto his shoulder. "Don't expect me to come back."

"Don't expect me to come running after you," Dean snapped, disobeying his own instructions. "Come on, Ollie."

The kid squeaked as Dean yanked him by the collar of his jacket a little harder than he meant to. He steadfastly kept his eyes forward, rigidly climbing into the driver's seat of the Impala, turning the key and hearing her engine rumble to life. 

Fuck.

Ollie was sobbing in the passenger seat next to him with his knees pulled up to his chest, obviously trying to muffle the sounds with his sleeves. Jesus, poor kid, Dean thought pityingly with a wince, pulling away and still keeping his eyes away from the rearview mirrors. That was really bad. The brothers had fought before, obviously - I mean, they were brothers, it wouldn't be natural if they hadn't - and that was definitely one of the worst. It was the type of fight that left a pulsating pain in Dean's chest whenever he breathed, and - god, they'd made Oliver choose between the two of them. Shit, that had to suck. 

Dean glanced over to the passenger seat where the sad lump of denim was curled into the corner formed by the leather seats and side of the door. 

"Kiddo, how you doin'?"

"How do you think?"

Dean winced again at the choked sentence, running a few potential scenarios through his head before deciding to deal with the damage tomorrow morning.

"I'm gonna find a motel near the town where that couple went missing and we'll - do whatever tomorrow morning, ok?"

"Alr - alright. ...Is it ok if I fall asleep?"

His heart broke a little more.

"Yeah, buddy, that's fine. Don't worry about it. I'll take care of you."

_Fuck._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sam?"
> 
> Sam held the phone tighter against his ear, trying to come up with a response but couldn't do so in time.
> 
> "I'm so - I'm so fucking sorry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick thing - meg doesn't exist for whatever reason because i say she doesn't and it would've gotten in the way of the story. bear with me.

_Ugh._

Sam lifted his head, blinking groggily and running a hand through his hair. His back cried out in protest as he slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes; waking up anywhere other than the Impala's passenger seat or a shitty motel was jarring and put him instantly on edge, but Sam had a hard time caring at the moment. Last night was something else.

He picked up his brown jacket from where it was crumpled into a ball on the table he'd slept slumped over on and dug through the pockets, pulling out his phone and flipping it open. A pang of disappointment shot through him when there were zero missed calls or messages (specifically from Ollie) although it was 6:37am and Sam had a suspicion that Dean would let their youngest sleep in for once.

Rather than sort through the memories of what had gone down the night prior, he pulled out a toothbrush and toothpaste from his duffel bag and made his way to the bathroom, ignoring the dirty look an employee gave him from the ticket booth. He didn't know what their problem was, but his mouth tasted awful and he had to do what he had to do.

The bathroom door clicked shut behind him (thank GOD it was single stalled, he didn't think he could deal with other people right now) leaving him alone, awash in the glow of dim fluorescent lights. Sam took a breath, setting his things on the sink counter - which definitely wasn't sanitary - and resting his hands on either side, leaning in and looking at himself in the mirror. He...kind of looked like shit. The circles under his eyes that had become a permanent feature were dark and heavy, and his hair was sticking up in all the wrong places. He rubbed his eyes again but chose to ignore his hair, instead picking up his toothbrush and beginning to brush his teeth, finally letting himself think about how to handle Ollie and Dean.

The kid had been with them for, gosh, over half a year now, and despite knowing how idiotic it was to get attached when their line of work was as...dangerous, as it was, there was really nothing to be done. Even now, Sam hated that Ollie wasn't with him, and that - oh  _god_ they were on a hunt and Sam wasn't there. He groaned, leaning over and spitting into the sink, rinsing off the toothbrush and shuffling out of the bathroom.

Feelings aside, he hadn't handled that well. At all. Neither had Dean, to be fair, and he had a right to go to Cali and find Dad, but he wasn't proud of the way he'd talked to him. Or Ollie, for that matter. Sam dropped into his seat at the aluminum table. God, he'd made Ollie choose between the two of them. That - that had to suck. He snorted - kind of an understatement. Looking back, he wasn't even sure if he wanted him to come with him. Who fucking knows how powerful this demon is, he probably was better off with Dean going on small hunts. Just - fuck, he wanted Ollie with him. The fact that he wasn't around to fight off whatever could potentially attack him made his skin itch. Sam's only comfort was the knowledge that Ollie would call him the minute he woke up; he was never good at dealing with conflict in the moment, but after it had died down he always resolved it as quickly as humanly possible.

Sam leaned over and rested his head sideways on the table, assuming a position similar to the one he'd slept in and opened Tetris on his phone. Bus tickets could wait for another hour or two, at least until Ollie called him. 

-

Ollie woke up with a start to Dean poking his shoulder, shooting upright in a quarter of a second before immediately regretting it as nausea and dizziness hit him like a bus.

The morning after a breakdown was always the worst.

A heavy quilt fell off his shoulders, and he pressed his right fist into the too-soft mattress.

"Where are we?" he asked in a scratchy voice, clearing his throat to no avail.

It looked like your standard run-of-the-mill motel room with two queen beds and dull paintings covering the walls. Light was seeping in through the sheer curtains on Ollie's left, something he would have appreciated if it wasn't shining directl _y into his fucking eyes._

"Motel on the outskirts of town," Dean supplied, sitting heavily on his bed and tugging on his boots. "Figured you wouldn't wanna spend the night in the car, it's always hell on your back."

Ollie nodded appreciatively before realizing with a wince that he'd spent the night in his binder. Oh well, nothing to be done now. It certainly wasn't the priority anyhow; somehow the fight that they'd had seemed worse the day after. He didn't even know how that was possible.

"Have you called Sam?" he asked nervously, kicking off the blanket and hopping off the bed, noticing that Dean had taken the time to remove his converse and socks. Whatever he might say, Dean was a big fucking softie.

"No," the man in question snorted. "Why the hell would I? He was the one who wanted to leave, not me."

"You're being a baby," Ollie snapped before he could regret it, toes curling into the shag carpet. "He has a valid reason to leave to be fucking honest, and you had a valid reason to stay. You just didn't talk about it right."

"Fuck you," Dean said, avoiding eye contact.

"Fuck you too, asshole. Now if you don't mind, I'm gonna call your fucking brother seeing as I'm the only mature one in the room right now."

Ollie shoved his feet into his converse foregoing socks and not bothering to tie the laces and stepped outside, shivering a bit when the cool morning air kissed his skin. Baseball tees were attractive but not very functional. He pulled out the flip phone that Sam had insisted he buy - honestly, he got the bare minimum function thing that they had going but that was just too far - and clicked on his contact. 

The phone started ringing, and Ollie put it to his ear while taking a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

-

"Sam?"

Sam held the phone tighter against his ear, trying to come up with a response but couldn't do so in time.

"I'm so - I'm so fucking sorry."

"Dude, what -"

"Look, you guys never asked to have me as a responsibility and you're both already dealing with enough, I'm just - I'm so sorry that this is something that's even on your radar. I shouldn't have let you go on your own either and maybe I could - could've done something or prevented -"

"Jesus, slow down!"

"I'm sorry, Sam."

He heard Ollie sniffle through the shitty phone speaker, and although it was a little static-y, it was definitely there. Guilt shot through his chest for the millionth time that morning and it was only nine AM.

"I'm sorry too, I was a dick. You shouldn't've had to pick sides between me 'n' Dean, that's kind of fucked up. ...To be honest, you're probably better off with Dean. He can protect you better, and I dunno if I even want you near this thing."

"I'm better off with the both of you, together," Ollie said bitterly, and Sam almost chuckled aloud, glad to see he was getting his fight back. "And I can handle myself anyhow. Just cuz I'm scared of everything and hate hunting doesn't mean I'm bad at it."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam laughed. "You've gotten a lot better since we first picked you up. Remember our first hunt?"

"Oh my - that old dude's ghost? Bruh, he threw Dean across the room and then came for me, I screeched like a girl and you had to wave him off with a poker just so I could shoot the fucking thing."

The two shared a laugh, enjoying memories from months and months before rather than focus on the present, for a moment at least.

"You'll take care of Dean for me, right?" Sam decided to ask, picking at a scratch on the table.

"You know I will, asshole," Ollie teased, a bit of static cutting through the word asshole. Censorship. "...You're really not coming back, huh?"

"...I, uh..."

"No, it's ok, I'm sorry for asking. This is important, and I know how much you need it. Just, um, stay safe?"

"I will, I always do," Sam replied without hesitation, although he had a feeling they both knew it was bullshit. "...Is Dean there?" he then asked slowly, embarrassed of not having the balls to call him himself but needing to know. 

"No, you know how he is. Ego's too damn big for his body."

Sam laughed again, but he couldn't stop the sadness from creeping into the sound.

"He'll call eventually, I'll make sure of it. Keep me updated, ok?"

"You know I will. Stay safe, buddy. I wish - I wish I was there. Or you were here. Y'know."

"Yeah, I know. I do too. Bye, Sam. Love you."

"Love you too."

Sam snapped his phone shut and rested his head back on the table, and despite being miles apart the two muttered the same word in perfect unison.

_"Fuck."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, that's it folks uwu. i'm debating on adding a third chapter so that sam and dean's resolution can be, like, seen, but i'm not sure. for now at least, that's it! i might do some more stuff with this universe and ollie but i haven't decided yet. we'll see, i guess. but i hope you liked this, thanks for sticking with me!

**Author's Note:**

> i fucking hate oc inserts in fanfiction but dammit i understand now - they're so much fucking fun to write. also, arguments! arguments are one of the few things that i can rely on to get my heart racing and really get my fingers moving on the keyboard. they're just so much fun - the body language, the feelings, the eventual resolve - UGH. also, my last thing - DEAN WITH KIDS. just. SHIT. i love it so much and i fucking love exploiting that angle. alright, i'm done. everything will work out ok, don't worry, i just hope this didn't annoy you too bad. until the next chapter ;^) later fuckers


End file.
